


If You Would Not Deny Me

by rachelcabbit



Category: Titanic (1997)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-25
Updated: 2007-10-25
Packaged: 2019-03-11 16:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13527735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelcabbit/pseuds/rachelcabbit
Summary: Rose is in emotional turmoil and Cal wants to help her, but his spectacular gift is not merely a display of generosity. He wants something in return and will not be denied.*one-shot* *Warning: dubcon*





	If You Would Not Deny Me

**Author's Note:**

> It's amazing to think that this fic is just over 10 years old. I wrote it in one sitting after another viewing of Titanic.   
> I'm currently uploading my previous work from FanFiction.net as well as writing new material, so this may have been a work you have read before if you've been in the fandom a while.   
> I do hope you enjoy my work - though it does deal with some tough emotions.

 

Rose Dewitt Bukator sat in front of the dressing table mirror, staring at her pale reflection. Her hair hung loosely in matted red curls, awaiting a brush. Her eyes were a mixture of fear, sadness, relief, and confusion. She was still recovering from her accident earlier that evening. 

She had come so close to escaping her suffocating life - so very close. She puzzled over whether it was a good thing that Mr. Dawson had convinced her not to jump from the ship and that he had done her a favour in saving her life when she slipped on her beaded dress. Part of her was disappointed that she hadn’t just been left to fall. That part was growing quieter and quieter as she thought.

Her thoughts were of Mr. Dawson and his apparent zest for life, despite being poorer than a dormouse. He was travelling, seeing the world and living life as it came. He was free, and it intrigued her. Her own life was laid before her like a formal banquet. The further the Titanic sailed, the closer she was to becoming Cal’s wife. The closer she was to being permanently trapped.

Rose opened her music box, and a sweet melody filled the air. It reminded her of her childhood. She was groomed to be a perfect bride for a rich aristocrat; she was taught everything a well-brought-up woman should know and social etiquette was drummed into her from a very young age. Despite this, she was still quite innocent of it all. When she was younger she had no idea about the grand plans her parents schemed for her. This innocence was conveyed through the gentle chimes of the music box.

Rose picked up her hand mirror. She looked at her reflection closely.

She was seventeen. She was hardly out of her childhood and yet she felt so old at that moment. So weary, as though by knowing her future she had no need for energy and enthusiasm. However, as soon as she thought of the lower class man who had saved her, she felt and saw her cheeks brightening, and something sparked in her eyes.

Rose heard a knock at her door. She wiped the mirror and gently placed it back on the dressing table, looking into the larger mirror in front of her to see who was entering.

Caledon Hockley stood in the doorway. As the door opened, he leaned against the frame casually. He was handsome as always. His dark looks smoldered as he stared at her.

“I know you’ve been melancholy,” He said gently, almost lovingly, fitting in quite well with the still tinkling music box, “I don’t pretend to know why.” He continued, his speech sounding rehearsed: practiced like all aristocratic behaviour.

He entered the room, leaving the door open behind him.

Cal walked over and pushed the music box out of the way, sitting down on the dressing table. The music halted abruptly, the reminder of her innocent childhood gone; bringing Rose’s thoughts back to harsh reality.

“I intended to save this until the engagement gala next week, but...” he sighed, flipping open a greyish black box and revealing the most beautiful necklace Rose had ever seen. It was a fascinating shade of blue and was glittering with a diamond chain. Cal continued, pleased that Rose was so taken aback.

“I thought that tonight…” he trailed off, as Rose reached out to the necklace.

“Good gracious.” She gasped.

“Well, this is a reminder of… my feelings for you.” Cal grinned a superior grin.

Still in shock Rose asked if the necklace could possibly be a diamond, but Cal cut her off. He leapt from the table and grinning with pleasure he placed the necklace around his fiancée’s exposed neck.

“56 carats to be exact.” He explained. “It was worn by Louis XVI. They called it the _Coeur de la Mere,_ the…”

“The Heart of the Ocean.” Rose translated, interrupting her fiancé who seemed to assume she had no knowledge of French. He affirmed her translation.

Rose was in awe of the diamond. It was so lavish, such an expensive gift. Her mother would have kittens if she knew that Cal had given her such a token of affection.

She could not help but wonder at his reason for giving it to her. _A reminder of his feelings for her..._ Did he love her this much? Or was he buying her with lavish gifts? Rose could not tell, but the blue diamond fascinated her. She touched it lightly with the tips of her fingers; half thinking that it would disappear and be her imagination. Cal held her eyes in the reflection of the mirror. She stared back at him.

“It’s overwhelming.” She said, in a rather unenthusiastic voice. As amazing a gift as this was, her ‘melancholy’ refused to let her become more animated. She was feeling quite uncomfortable, and not just by the heavy, expensive diamond around her neck. Cal’s stare made her feel somewhat fearful. She looked back to the diamond.

“Well, it’s for royalty,” Cal answered, matter-of-factly. “We are royalty, Rose.”

Surprised, Rose looked back to Cal’s stare. It seemed quite arrogant to class oneself as royalty. His family were wealthy, they were aristocratic, yes, but there were certainly not royalty.

Cal moved closer. He leaned on the dressing table, staring intently once more.

“You know… there is nothing I couldn’t give you Rose.”

Rose felt sure he was wrong. She was sure he could not give her freedom and happiness. She was sure he would not respect her as an equal. He was not talking of feelings though. She knew he was talking about material goods.

“There’s nothing I’d deny you...” He purred.

She’d be denied a voice. Denied choice in her life. He already chooses her meals, decides whether or not she could smoke. He even said he would mediate what she reads after her outburst at lunch. She looked at him, waiting for the ‘but’, or the ‘if’.

He turned from the mirror and looked at her directly.

“If you would not deny me.”

He stared at her, his eyes imploring her for something. He was like a gentleman-beast. His eyes scared her. Outside he held composure but his eyes showed he was some sort of animal inside, the heat emitting from his dark eyes was intense. It was lust. It was desire. It was conveyed in such a way that he was not even asking. He was telling her silently that he deserved some sort of reward.

“Open your heart to me, Rose.” He continued his arm on her shoulder, nudging her slightly. Rose was filled with uncertainty and fear. He had just given her this gift, this lavish, expensive, almost romantic gift. She began to feel like she did owe him. She looked back in the mirror and her hand covered the blue diamond heart around her neck. She slowly moved her hand up along the chain till her hand was stretched around her throat, as though she were going to choke herself. The feeling of entrapment set in once again. She began to wish that she had fallen into the ocean.

Cal, oblivious to her inner turmoil, leaned in and moved his lips to hers. She was expecting it. She was dreading it, but guilt made her defenseless. She could hear her mother’s voice echoing in the back of her mind.

“ _We need Cal and the fortune your marriage will bring. If you don’t marry Cal we are going to be destitute.”_

“ _Do what Cal says. Better to let him have you than to have us end up in the poor house with you making our money by being a street-walker, God forbid.”_

Cal lifted her up, kissing her deeply. She hardly returned the kiss. She was too fearful and in too much inner turmoil to react. Cal seemed not to notice.

He carried her over to her bed, placing her down and breaking the kiss. His eyes were full of lust. Rose tried to reason to herself. Cal was a good man, wasn’t he? He was a little arrogant, but he did care for her, didn’t he? Maybe she cared for him. Maybe this was what love was? Her mother never showed any particular outward affection for her father when he was alive. Maybe, Rose thought, her own relationship with Cal was the same?

Cal began to undress, and he pulled Rose’s white dress over her head and stared for a moment at the curls of red hair that cascaded down over her shoulders and mingled with the beautiful diamond necklace, resting on her pale silken skin.

His hands roamed her body; Rose closed her eyes and let him get on with it, feeling hot and bothered but not happy. She realised that she was going to lose her virginity before her wedding night. Quite often she had wondered what it would be like, but never had she imagined this. She’d expected some sort of pleasure, but she was feeling only dread and guilt. Cal kissed her and was beginning to get quite flustered. He was panting between kisses.

“Rose, are you ready?” Cal panted, his eyes misted with desire. He hardly paid attention to her unsure nod. She could not summon words. She clenched the bed sheets as tight as she could and steeled herself.

He entered her, causing her pain but was uncaring as he moved around inside her and began his thrusting. Tears escaped from Rose’s tightly closed eyes. It was unbearable. She felt like she wanted to scream like she could release all the pent-up anger, frustration and sadness in one go.

She did scream, but into Cal’s shoulder as he groaned loudly, collapsing atop of her. He believed it to be a sign of her contentment. She was grateful her ordeal was over. 

Cal pulled out of her and rolled from on top of her. She turned away from his naked form; ashamed of herself and quite sure now that she felt no affection for him. She had given away her virginity to a man in return for a 56-carat diamond. She felt as though she were one of those streetwalkers her mother often talked about in their possible desolation. She let more tears roll down her cheeks, as Cal dressed and sat down on the bed.

“Do you not feel better now for opening your heart to me, Rose?” He asked, grinning.

Rose said nothing. She stared at him, almost soullessly. He seemed not to notice, or if he did he ignored it.

“You’d best not wear that necklace all the time. Not with lower class ruffians aboard ship.”

Once again, thoughts of Jack Dawson sprung into Rose’s mind. A reminder of the freedom she now could not have. She had tied herself to Cal, by giving her body to him. Her mother would not let her escape the match now, not now that Cal held the Dewitt Bukator reputation in his grasp.

Cal leaned over Rose’s naked body and unclasped the necklace, before placing it in its box. He kissed his fiancée on the forehead and left, taking Rose’s dignity with him.

Rose cried into her pillow that evening, before resolving to get wrapped up and order a bath to cleanse her dirtied body. 

She was not in love with Cal but needed him now. She had not opened her heart to him, however. She reserved her heart. She almost wished that she were back out on deck above the choppy, icy waters. She wished she were back with the only man who had ever treated her like a person, and not an object. When she returned to bed that evening, her thoughts were not of the man who had just taken her innocence from her but of the man who would, in the future, return it to her.


End file.
